


Test Drive

by ApolloSupreme, shelny18



Series: Skype [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Skype and deadlines have a lot to answer for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 14:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApolloSupreme/pseuds/ApolloSupreme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras, with Courfeyrac's help, tries to seduce Grantaire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Test Drive

**Author's Note:**

> So Ash comes out with stuff which is incredibly funny, including once telling a friend that "a girl was like a car, you have to take her out for a test drive before buying". We told her we wanted a fic of this. Now we have upcoming deadlines and were on Skype and Ash sent the first couple of lines of this because procrastination for the win. So I replied. And then she did.
> 
> We now have over 3000 words of this thing and are planning to just continue doing this.

“I’m ready to go for a test drive!” Grantaire choked on his mouthful of beer in shock and peered up at Enjolras, who was staring at him looking very flushed and more than slightly demented.

“Urm…” Grantaire tried, feeling more than a little confused. “You can’t drive?”

In the corner of the room Courfeyrac groaned. When he'd told Enjolras to go and talk to Grantaire he'd given very specific instructions on what to say - that wasn't among the lines he'd suggested.

"That's fine you can teach me." Enjolras stated, taking a sudden step forward into Grantaire's personal space. Grantaire slowly leant back and tried to subtly check the blonde’s pupils.

"I can't drive either. In fact I think Feuilly and Combeferre are the only ones who can. You'd be better to ask them."

Enjolras frowned.

"But I don't want to ask them," he said, clearly confused. "And that doesn't change the fact that I'm ready for the test drive."

"Enjolras, you're not talking sense," Grantaire said softly, wondering who had dared to spike their leader's drink.

Irritation darkened blue eyes and Enjolras stared Grantaire down as if he were being deliberately obtuse.

"You and I, it's time, or so I believe, to have our test drive, decide on if we want to take out warranty."

Grantaire stared blankly back at him, were they buying a washing machine now?

"Warranty on what?"

"Us," he said firmly, as if it were obvious.

"Enjolras, you can't take out warranty on people. Well, you can get insurance, but not warranty. Look, maybe you should sit down." Moving his coat off the chair next to him, Grantaire pulled it out for the blonde.

Enjolras scowled down at the chair and turned to look behind him, Grantaire hastily mimed for a glass of water from the barmaid.

Courfeyrac caught Enjolras' eyes and mimed slicing his throat. Hastily fluttering his hands, Courfeyrac managed to acquire a pen and pad from Combeferre and hastily scrawl ** _"TRY A BIT MORE ROMANTIC; COMPLIMENT HIS EYES"_**

"Your eyes are very... blue," he said quickly, turning to back to face Grantaire, just in time to see yet another look of confusion enter said eyes.

"Um, thanks?"

"Yes and they're very, uh... big. And expressive," he added on quickly, in case Grantaire thought he was trying to insult him.

Grantaire stared at him with his big, expressive blue eyes. At this moment Enjolras could clearly read total incomprehension.

"They are very good eyes," He continued almost desperately, "nice vision as well, I notice."

"Yes," Grantaire agreed dryly, "certainly no need for warranty on them."

"No, definitely not."

Enjolras stood there for a moment, clearly floundering, just staring at Grantaire who was staring back, clearly worried and more than a little freaked.

"And your... nose as well," he said quickly, saying the first thing he saw.

"Enjolras, my nose is far from small and has been broken at least three times," Grantaire pointed out. "I know it's far from my best feature. What are you trying to get at?"

Courfeyrac slumped over the table top and slowly turned to peer up at Combeferre trying desperately to tune out Enjolras' floundering.

"Where did we go wrong? All these years as his friend, is he really this inept?" He mourned, gesturing vaguely towards the bar.

"Clearly." Combeferre murmured eyes trained on the train wreck that was Enjolras's seduction attempt.

"He'll charm people so they'll willingly step into their grave, but he can’t talk his most devoted into his bed."

"Ranting about politics comes naturally to him though. Actually dealing with humans... that's something Enjolras has never been good at." Combeferre looked down at Courfeyrac. "You're supposed to be the ideas man here."

"I am this close to just telling him to ask 'Taire to fuck him," Courfeyrac muttered, snatching up the notebook and scribbling in it again. He did not have to wait long for Enjolras to glance back over again, desperation written clearly on every line on his face, and Courfeyrac quickly held up the notebook.

**_"ROMANTIC, NOT BORING. YOU'RE TRYING TO GET HIM INTO BED, NOT SCARE HIM OFF. TRY HIS PERSONALITY, COMPLIMENT THAT."_ **

Enjolras stared at Courfeyrac completely dead pan, before slowly, slowly, slowly, turning to face Grantaire.

"You are um..." He trailed off, almost squinting in his concentration. Grantaire stared steadily back at him, vaguely curious but most thoroughly confused.

"I am?" He prompted as Enjolras continued to frown at him.

"Spirited. You are surprisingly spirited." His eyes flicked to the barmaid who had at last appeared with the water before turning back to Grantaire, "Or perhaps it is not so surprising." He mused almost to himself, as if debating the pun. Grantaire's eyebrows shot up to disappear under his fringe, not sure whether to be amused, worried or annoyed. Courfeyrac slammed his head onto Combeferre's shoulder in despair.

By now more of the friends had noticed and were paying attention to the pair, and Enjolras couldn't help but flush.

"Yes, you are very spirited. Especially during our meetings."

"Enjolras, when I speak during meetings you get mad at me," Grantaire said patiently.

"But you improve my arguments. And your artwork!" He was clutching at straws now but he didn't care. "Your artwork is-"

 "You've never seen my artwork," Grantaire interrupted

Enjolras huffed and turned hastily back to look at Courfeyrac with an appealing expression, confused as to why Grantaire wasn't cooperating and was making this so difficult. Courfeyrac stared back at him pityingly.

Confused at where Enjolras kept looking Grantaire tried to peer around him to follow his eyesight but was cut off by Enjolras whipping around to stare him dead in the eye.

"You're right, there's no need for a test drive you're a buy only model!" He announced solidly. Courfeyrac made a strangled noise like a cat whose tail had just been trod on.

Grantaire blinked and stared up at Enjolras in shock.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh God," Courfeyrac groaned, dropping his head into his arms. Combeferre patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"I'd give up now," he suggested, and Courfeyrac nodded sadly.

"You're a buy only model," Enjolras repeated.

"Okay, you really need to sit down now," Grantaire decided, pulling out the chair again. "And here, drink some of this water. And then I'll get someone to walk you home and make sure you get there safely. Combeferre maybe."

Enjolras held the glass and stared into its depths looking very small and lost. Grantaire felt thoroughly sorry for him and guiding him into the chair looked around the room to spot Combeferre.

"I don't understand." Enjolras murmured and Grantaire gave him an absent pat on the shoulder.

"We all get like that after a few." He offered in comfort and catching sight of Combeferre marvelling at the tearful Courfeyrac sat to his left.

"A few? You think I've been drinking?" Enjolras practically slammed the glass down and glared at Grantaire. "I thought you'd know me better than that."

"You mean you're sober? 100%?"

"Yes!"

Grantaire stared at him for a moment. "I need another drink," he announced, downing his beer and turning to signal for the barmaid.

Enjolras stood suddenly, his temper flaring and almost looming over Grantaire. Courfeyrac hastily rose to his feet hand outstretched almost moaning in his effort to prevent the oncoming argument from undoing all his careful planning. Bahorel appeared from seemingly nowhere, grasping Courfeyrac around the waist to prevent him interrupting.

"You do not need another drink!" Enjolras grouched reaching out to grasp a handful of Grantaire’s shirt. Combeferre flinched in anticipation and Courfeyrac squeezed his eyes closed. Then a stunned silence filled the pub.

"He kissed him..." Came a stunned, disbelieving whisper from somewhere in the room.

"Now." Enjolras said smartly, stepping away from Grantaire and smoothing his shirt. "About that test drive?"

Grantaire stared at Enjolras in shock, one hand rising to touch his lips softly.

"You kissed me," he stated.

"Well done," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes. "You can manage to tell me the bleeding obvious."

"You actually kissed me."

He was starting to have second thoughts about Grantaire's intelligence.

"Yes. Do I have to do it again, or have I made myself clear yet?"

"Do it again..." Grantaire echoed dully eyes widened and filled with shock as he gaped at the blonde who was steadily getting more and more impatient.

Taking that as instruction Enjolras leant forward again, neatly attaching his mouth to Grantaire’s and watching him pointedly through narrowed eyes until he started to invest himself a little more to the conversation. Pulling sharply away Enjolras again stared Grantaire down.

"Clear?"

"The test drive means us two. A relationship." Enjolras nodded once and Grantaire smiled. "This has to be the best dream I've ever had. Well, I hope I never wake up."

"It's not a dream," Enjolras told him but Grantaire just waved a hand at him.

"So what does this test drive entail? A date I'm assuming?"

"Is this actually happening?" Courfeyrac whispered once he'd dared to open his eyes again.

"Yes. It would appear Enjolras finally worked out how to make his intentions known," Combeferre replied with a small smile. "Took him long enough."

"I want to be proud but... Why does he insist on using car metaphors?" Courfeyrac despaired, leaning heavily and dramatically into Bahorel as the man let him loose. The taller man laughed gaily, and Combeferre shrugged with a fond smile.

"At least we have progress." They all looked over to the bar where the two men were leaning into each other with shy smiles.

"It's adorable." Bahorel agreed.

Courfeyrac made a sudden noise of horror.

"What now?" Combeferre asked with a sigh turning back to the dramatically horrified man.

"They can't be planning a date! I haven't talked Enjolras through it yet!" He gasped.

"They're both grown ups, I'm sure they can manage." Combeferre said comfortingly, turning away with a roll of his eyes.

"But you don't understand, what if he tries to take him to. I don't know, a library or a car show room!"

"I don't think Grantaire would care where Enjolras took him, just so long as it's Enjolras taking him there and it's a date," Bahorel pointed out.

"Besides, he's perfectly capable of telling Enjolras if it's a stupid idea," Combeferre added.

"He won't," Courfeyrac said mournfully. "Because it's Enjolras."

They once again all looked over at where Enjolras was talking softly, Grantaire watching him carefully.

"So, tomorrow at six good with you?" the blonde double checked.

"Yes Enjolras, though we've yet to decide where we're even going," Grantaire chuckled.

Enjolras thought about this carefully. _'What would Courfeyrac do?'_ he tried to work out.

A dozen situations of Courfeyrac parading into the house in the early afternoon with tales of a successful conquest fought with contrasting images of Courfeyrac sneaking into the house in the early hours of the morning with a red cheek. If Enjolras had learnt anything from Courfeyrac it was what not to do... But also... Turning he stared at Grantaire contemplatively before grinning victoriously, very proud of himself.

"Have you seen that movie you were going on about last week yet?" Most of Courfeyrac's successful dates took place in a public place, that was not a club. Clubs, Enjolras had learned, were no place for a successful date.

"The Hobbit? Enj, have you even seen the first one yet?" Grantaire asked.

"There was a first one?" Enjolras asked blankly, making Grantaire shake his head with disbelief.

"Yes Enjolras, there was a first one." He thought carefully. "You like disney right? Everyone likes disney. Although I can just imagine you ranting about Princesses and Prince Charming and all that... Hmm, maybe not Frozen then." He clicked his fingers. "I know. Hunger Games. Revolution and all that. You'll like that one."

"Hunger games." Enjolras agreed with an air of finality and a nod of his head as if they'd laid down some great plan. "Tomorrow at six, we see Hunger games." Granatire nodded with a smile and watched as Enjolras left, muttering under his breath, and Courfeyrac and Combeferre hastily rising to follow him out and, presumably, back home.

Almost as soon as the door shut behind them Grantaire slumped onto his chair and pressed his fingers against his lips, shock settling over his features. Bossuet's laughing roused him from his stupor as the bald man settled down on his left and clapped him on the back.

"So a test drive?" He joked and grinned over at Joly as he settled on Grantaire's other side.

"I'd love to know who gave him that idea," Grantaire said with a small smile.

"That's all his," Joly laughed. "Courfeyrac's way too smooth for a line like that, and Combeferre too normal."

"Bet it's the first time you've been compared to a car when someone's asking you out," Bossuet said, signalling for the barmaid to fetch them a bottle of wine.

"So tell me," Bahorel interrupted, dropping into the chair opposite Grantaire, Jehan practically draping himself over his back, "how good a kisser is he?"

Grantaire glared without any real heat, a saucy and teasing smile taking over his features as he batted his eyelashes at his partner in crime.

"Certainly better than you my dear." He hastily extricated himself from Jehan's arms amidst the laughter of his friends and Bahorels spluttering ("We agreed never to mention that!") and pulled on his beanie and jacket.

"Where are you off to so early?" Joly asked pausing with the neck of the bottle tilted just slightly over Grantaire's glass.

"Well, I have a date tomorrow. I'm also ninety per cent sure Apollo has never actually watched the first Hunger Games so I have a DVD to post before six tomorrow evening."

Joly smiled up at him and moved the bottle on to the next glass.

"Take care then." Grantaire nodded in understanding and left the pub, his friends watching him the whole way.

"Well, let's hope it goes well tomorrow." Bahorel said lightly raising his pint in salute.


End file.
